


What You Don't Know

by heathenpesticide



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Dubious Consent Due To Identity Issues, Established Relationship, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, M/M, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-09 06:12:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12270528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heathenpesticide/pseuds/heathenpesticide
Summary: It had struck Kaz again how strangely unnerving it was, to see all the same old expressions on this man, despite the new face haphazardly pasted onto him. When the set of his brow was just so, his mouth in that uneven quirk of concentration, he really didn't look anything like Big Boss at all. Or perhaps that was just the bias of what Kaz had already figured out. Realistically, who the fuck else was close enough to either man to be able to make that distinction? There was something so poetically, devastatingly hilarious about that, really, in the most bittersweet way.My submission for Prompt 3 of vkaz week: What You Don't Know





	What You Don't Know

**Author's Note:**

> Note: this is supposed to fit into Broken Adonis - it's actually an excerpt from a future chapter, and takes place directly after the events at the end of Chapter 3.

_I hope you're rested up, because we're not stopping. Not until the pain is gone_. 

Perhaps it was a melodramatic thing to say, but Kaz's head isn't where it should be, still swimming in painkillers. Still reeling from the shock of finding out. His first instinct is to be angry, but he doesn't have room for that right now, not with how  _isolated_ it leaves him, this imperative to keep this knowledge to himself. It's too dangerous to question anyone yet, to begin searching for answers on  _why_ , too dangerous to even let on that he knows. It's better to just play along, for now, even if it makes him feel numb and hollow and  _alone_. 

Contrary to Venom's insistence otherwise, Kaz would prefer to get back to work sooner than later. It's better than convalescing in a drugged trance with nothing to occupy him but the things that were lost, but now his stitches and bones are throbbing, the pain beginning to percolate in a way that has his vision swimming with static and nausea rising up his throat.

He tries to hide how labored his breathing is, how his voice is a little huskier than usual as he relays instructions to Venom over the radio - merely talking is too much physical exertion for him, and he wonders if perhaps it would have been wiser to just stay in bed. Thankfully - or perhaps disturbingly - Venom remains silent on the other end. He doesn't chastise Kaz for being so stubbornly industrious, but he doesn't voice any concern, either. Kaz avoids thinking too hard on whether that's uncharacteristic of either Big Boss or Ronan, tries not to speculate on how convincingly Venom plays the part. Kaz figures it will be easier for him to keep up the ruse if he immerses himself as much as possible in the charade. 

Easier said than done.

He disconnects the comm and sags against the railing, squinting against the sun glittering on the water, his head spinning. The dancing of sunlight on the rolling waves only exacerbates his dizziness, and he's hit with such a powerful rush of vertigo that he has to swallow thickly against the increased swell of nausea in his throat, has to squint his eyes shut to remind his head which way is up. He really wants to lie down now and elevate his leg. He's still not healed enough for a prosthetic, so his stump hangs limply, blood flow throbbing painfully downward which each beat of his heart so he feels every bit of impending discomfort, repetitive waves building stronger than the last until he'll need another dose of painkillers. 

He'd woken this morning enveloped in Venom's body heat, still curled up with Venom pressed protectively against his back, but that fleeting comfort had been quickly eclipsed by sunbursts of excruciating pain erupting from his stumps, his stitches too tight, too itchy, too hot, his subsequent writhing startling Venom into action. There'd been some vague disappointment somewhere beneath the urgent need to shake the pain - this had been their first night back together, their first morning after nine years - and it had been wasted, the enjoyment of it sullied by a new kind of agony Kaz hadn't known could exist. But then disappointment dissipated into bewilderment and reverent nostalgia, even - at how Venom maintained this calm urgency, moving with purposeful haste, exactly as Ronan always did when tending to a critical patient. Despite the new face, it was like his old medic was still here with him, that same confident stride, that same expression of determined focus, yet strangely removed at the same time. 

The medic on duty had imparted a small case of pre-loaded syringes to Venom when he'd come to take Kaz out of observation, and he'd dutifully retrieved one and administered it with a suspiciously expert hand and a one-armed grace that Kaz didn't think he'd ever be able to achieve even with practice. Kaz had stared at him with such uncomfortable intensity that Venom seemed to wilt under the scrutiny, and in his panicked alertness from the slowly ebbing pain, Kaz had almost blown the whole thing and blurted out something about old skills still being useful. 

It had struck Kaz again how strangely unnerving it was, to see all the same old expressions on this man, despite the new face haphazardly pasted onto him. When the set of his brow was just so, his mouth in that uneven quirk of concentration, he really didn't look anything like Big Boss at all. Or perhaps that was just the bias of what Kaz had already figured out. Realistically, who the fuck else was close enough to either man to be able to make that distinction? There was something so poetically, devastatingly hilarious about that, really, in the most bittersweet way. 

Kaz was grateful for the haze of lethargy that blanketed him moments after the drugs kicked in, the way it quieted his thoughts long enough to take away any energy he might have had left to speak. It had been a blissful few moments of relief before his thoughts were waking again, an uncoiling drunken sensation that Kaz was terrified would loosen his tongue, so with the last bit of lucidity he had left, he insisted that Venom waste no time in getting back to work. As though to underscore a point, he fumbled awkwardly for the cassette recorder on the nightstand and ejected the current tape, holding it out with a swaying hand. He'd expected it to be a fight, for Venom to put up some resistance, and perhaps he did, in his own way, with that prolonged stare and his mouth on the verge of shaping a disapproving frown.

But in the end, he'd silently complied. Taken the tape without a word, strapped on his prosthetic, put the eyepatch back in place, dressed for the mission, and left with only a slight hesitation at the door. Kaz wonders if the real Snake would have done that. Of course it was a very specifically Ronan thing to do -  _kind of_  - though Ronan would have put up more of a fight. Would have delivered one of those coldly logical yet succinct lectures of concerned wisdom that sometimes had Kaz buckling with a petulant huff and a roll of his eyes. But now it's difficult to pin a personality on Venom, like he's trapped hovering somewhere between the two. Like he's still feeling out the role and trying to get it right, and every time something of his natural personality slips through, he immediately backs off and sinks back into reticence.

Kaz hums out a grunt of dissatisfaction and snaps his eyes open again, narrowing on the strip of sunset reflecting off the water.  _Not supposed to be thinking about that_ , he reminds himself. A cold sensation sinks into his gut as his eyes refocus on his surroundings, a sudden wave of ennui that seeps dark and ugly through his chest. It's all so different. There's a ghost of the old Mother Base lingering behind his eyes, like he'd expected to open them and be looking at a different ocean. Not slumming it on one platform again, with most of it covered in construction tarps. Initially he'd been eager to have something to do, for a new project to take on that could draw his focus, but now it feels like too much, too far to go, too overwhelming. And it's too empty here, too few soldiers. He has to strain his ears just to hear the metallic thump of boots on a catwalk somewhere on the other side of the platform, and it's quickly drowned out by wind and the hum of construction cranes. 

And then there's the clink of spurs approaching. 

Kaz exhales slowly through his nose, eyes fluttering shut for patience. He's in so much pain right now that he knows he won't put up a fight, whatever it is Ocelot wants from him. That's the most exhausting part of it, the suspicion that Ocelot knows this and is taking advantage of the opportunity. Of course Kaz should have noticed earlier that the practice targets are up, that it would mean Ocelot's been slinking around playing with his goddamn guns, but Kaz has been preoccupied with other things. He merely stares down at the submersible dock on the deck below him, clenches his teeth, and waits.

"Should you be out of bed so soon, Miller?"

Kaz's chest tightens and his body flushes hot, muscles trembling. What was initially supposed to be contained impatience is now instant, seething rage, Kaz can't even hear Ocelot's voice without wanting to turn around and deck the guy. Ocelot lied to him. Ocelot told him the medic was dead. And now he's putting on this bullshit performative display of concern for Kaz's well-being, a transparent form of mockery at best. 

Kaz pauses long enough to get a satisfactory breath so hopefully his voice will come out steady when he answers, intends to say " _What the fuck do you want, Ocelot_ " but instead it's --

"If it's all the same to you, you'd do best to keep your distance from me for the foreseeable future."

This is surprisingly met with silence. No cutting remark, not even a haughty sniff, which warrants a careful glance over his shoulder to check if Ocelot is still even there, to check that Kaz hadn't imagined his presence entirely. 

Ocelot looks stunned - no,  _hypnotized_ , even - an eerie vacant look to his eyes that actually makes Kaz shudder, and he carefully turns in awkward shifts on his one leg so that he's facing Ocelot directly. "Ocelot?" he says, tries to say - all the air has left his lungs and it comes out as a whispery little gasp very unbecoming of a commander. 

When Ocelot mechanically reaches into his pocket, Kaz startles, crutch embarrassingly clanging against the railing as he instinctively recoils with nowhere to escape. But then there's the familiar clink that Kaz would know anywhere, has him almost perking up like a dog hearing the jingle of keys, and then he's staring owlishly at the dog tags he'd thought were lost forever. 

Kaz shifts through several emotions in rapid succession - disbelief, shock, elation, anger. This petty inclination occurs to him that the tags are tainted by Ocelot's touch now, that absolutely no one should be allowed to touch them but him, but then he's fumbling against his crutch, bracing himself against the railing so he doesn't topple over when he frees his one hand to snatch them from Ocelot's grip. He wants to growl out some admonishment, to ask where the fuck he got these, but it's easy enough to figure out. The real question is what inspired Ocelot to recover them, how Ocelot might possibly have suspected Kaz would want them back. 

Then there's an awkward uncertainty of what to say. Kaz's first instinct is to thank him, but no, that's not right. Ocelot should never be thanked for anything, ever, that goddamn conniving  _bastard_ , this is probably a trap of some kind and Kaz just played right into it. And he's certainly not about to ask why Ocelot retrieved them, why he's handing them over now. 

"Is that all, then?" Kaz finally manages, and he hates the way his voice shakes, but Ocelot...Ocelot's not here, it seems. It's strange, how vacant and shuttered his eyes are. Kaz has never seen him like this, doesn't know what game he's trying to play --

Ocelot mumbles something under his breath that Kaz doesn't quite catch, then absently turns and leaves. It's -  _disturbing_ , really, but Kaz has always considered Ocelot a bit of a freak anyway, so he doesn't concern himself with it. He's trained himself to stop being surprised by Ocelot's eccentricities by now. 

But the tags -- Kaz abruptly looks down, checks the words stamped into them as though confirming this isn't some trick, but it's all there.

LLEWELLYN  
RONAN  
545-28-4210  
O NEG  
NO PREFERENCE

The weight is the same, the consistency of the metal, the little imperfections worn into them over time. It feels so wrong to have accepted this...whatever it is from Ocelot, certainly no approximation of an olive branch by any means, and Kaz gets the distinct feeling that he should turn around and hurl them into the ocean if he knows what's best for him, but of course he won't.

He can't.

* * *

Kaz is still clutching the tags when Venom returns. He'd promptly retired to his quarters immediately after that unsettling interaction with Ocelot, and he's been compulsively rubbing the tags together for hours, comforting himself with the texture and the sound of them, and it occurs to him just in time that he should perhaps hide them from sight when Venom's around. 

Luckily Venom still seems to be just as lost in himself, but less in a disturbing way and more an introspective one. Kaz slips the tags into the bedside drawer as Venom showers; it's not the best hiding place considering that's where the lube is always stashed, but Kaz is confident sex won't be on the menu for some time, if at all. Even if it was as easy as picking up where they left off, all of Kaz's physical and emotional stamina is expended on enduring the pain of his injuries and trying not to have a breakdown when the flashbacks set in. There's that sinking rock of dread that plummets into his stomach again, the thought of where their relationship might even be now, how he's supposed to play this thing convincingly. He figures it best to just follow Venom's lead, and hopefully he won't screw it up.

It's difficult to gauge where his emotions are; he'd grieved Ronan's death years ago, found his own unique - if destructive - way of coping with it, eventually found something resembling closure and did his best to move on, and now he's reluctant to reopen those wounds. There's a catch, there's always a catch, of course he's grateful just to get the chance to have his medic back, it was more than he might have ever hoped for; but even Kaz isn't idealistic enough to believe it's that simple. To believe that it can't be snatched away again as abruptly as it was given. They're both beholden to someone else's cause now, and ultimately, the one pressing question that Kaz hasn't allowed himself to think about amidst the miraculous discovery that he hadn't lost Ronan after all is  _Where the fuck is Big Boss, then_? 

A question he's asked for nine years that still doesn't have an answer, and now Kaz is wondering if he even cares anymore. If he even  _should_  care. 

Best not to dwell on it at the moment; Venom is standing in the doorway to the bathroom and gazing at Kaz with something that might be considered apprehension, if there's anything readable from his expression at all. He's still wearing the prosthetic but the eyepatch has come off again. His hair is damp and loose and there's something so uniquely appealing about him, something so... _familiar_  in the way he looks at Kaz, that for a fleeting second he forgets where and when he is, sets him reeling with such a turbulent wave of deja vu that he has to squint to see Big Boss in that face and not Ronan. 

Venom must sense the disquiet in him because he moves as though to cross the room, but hesitates as if waiting for permission. Like he doesn't want to make any sudden movements or come close enough to seem threatening. He's put on a pair of the standard Diamond Dogs undershorts given to all the recruits, and there's a wholesome kind of charm about it, like a silent approval of what Kaz has built here for them. Like Venom has unquestioningly accepted this as his home and has settled in already. It's so absurdly...domestic.

"Those suit you," Kaz says, and he quickly casts his eyes downward at how stupid it sounds. It's a trite thing to say in such a heavy moment, but there's really nothing else to talk about that doesn't have the potential to screw everything up in an instant. 

As though on autopilot, Venom crosses the room and -  _carefully, gently_  - lifts his hand to press the backs of his fingers to Kaz's forehead. Kaz freezes, eyes slowly drifting upward. He feels like he's being tested, and he isn't sure how he's supposed to respond. 

"Fever seems to have broken," Venom says. 

It's so strange to hear him speak. His voice isn't the same anymore, not quite. It sounds a little like him, but it's not throaty enough, not quite assertive enough. He seems to speak between a mumble and a growl now, a forced imitation of Big Boss, but it's a little off, like he's constantly swallowing his words, unsure of himself. 

Kaz only nods, unable to think of anything innocuous to say. Luckily Venom doesn't seem to expect a response, and after a short pause, he takes a cautious seat next to Kaz on the bed.

"I've been told it helps if you talk," he says. "About what happened."

"I'd rather not," Kaz says, and it comes out a little too abrupt for his liking. 

Venom seems to have expected that response and shrugs. "Feels pointless, doesn't it? When the only people you can talk to will never have any idea what it was like. Even when you talk about it, you're still alone in it."

Kaz certainly hadn't expected  _that_  response, however. He quickly looks up, searches Venom's face, but Venom is staring at the floor, seemingly a little dazed.

"Nine years is a long time to be asleep," he says. "And you're not really asleep. They don't tell you that, when you hear about people in a coma. It's not like being asleep at all. You're still...aware in some way, or your body is. There are these surreal waking dreams while your brain tries to make sense of what's happening to your body. Nothing is really coherent, they're just...sensations existing in the same space as you, and you don't even have the ability to process them correctly. Then you wake up, and you're not even sure you can trust that. I've had...panic attacks, I think. Where I'm not sure if I'm really awake, or if I'm still just lying in that hospital dreaming this all up. Everything seems like a hallucination. I don't feel rested, but I'm too nervous to sleep. And now I've got nine years of catching up to do. Nine years of aging to make peace with."

Kaz has stopped breathing. It's the most he's heard Venom speak since being reunited, which is enough of a shock in itself. But the confession sends a chill up his spine, has his stomach churning with nightmarish thoughts of being trapped in his own body, no agency, no reliable grasp on reality. It suddenly makes his lost limbs seem insignificant by comparison, and there's this small ache of affection tugging in his chest, this swelling urge to wrap his arm around Venom and hold on tight. 

So he does. 

Venom responds lightning-quick, arms enveloping Kaz with a knee-jerk swiftness, like he was waiting this whole time to do just this, but needed Kaz to initiate it. It feels good,  _god_  it feels good, there's something so safe and pure about being in Venom's too-tight embrace that Kaz forgets the throbbing pain in his cropped limbs, like Venom's touch might heal them. There's another strange little flash of deja vu - Kaz always thought that about Ronan, that his very touch had healing properties. That certainly hasn't changed after all this time, and it's such an immense comfort that Kaz thinks he might just drop off to sleep if they keep this up much longer.

"Do you want to lie down?" Venom murmurs, possibly sensing this already.

Kaz nods into his shoulder, goes boneless as Venom eases him back and helps him under the covers. It's so obvious he's had practice at this, that he's done this before with injured patients in his previous life. Kaz wants to comment on it, but he's still afraid to let on what he knows, feels a little like he might be insulting Venom's performance if he does. Even that feels wrong,  _patronizing_ , but it's the wisest option he's got right now. 

And it's still so awkward between them, their boundaries are still so hazy, like they're getting to know each other all over again. And in a sense, they are. Still, Kaz doesn't want him to leave, doesn't want to miss any opportunity for intimacy. He's needed it so much lately, and Venom is the only one who could sufficiently give it now, the only one Kaz even trusts enough to be allowed in such close proximity.  _Hold me_ , he thinks, manages to say with his entire body. Somehow Venom seems to hear it and wordlessly complies, has Kaz curling into him as best he can without aggravating his injuries.

Then Kaz is speaking again, searching for something appropriate to say, some kind of encouragement, anything that might express how much he appreciates that Venom is here with him now --

"I thought you were - "

-  _dead_ , he almost says, it's the only thing he can come up with, but that's not even right. He thought  _Ronan_  was dead. The official story is that he was very aware of  _Big Boss's_  condition, just not his whereabouts. 

It's too close to a mission-breaking slip-up for comfort, too soon in the game to be making careless mistakes like that.

"I thought you would be different," Kaz amends. It's weak, so weak, a poor attempt at a save. And a painfully ironic one, too. 

"Me too," Venom whispers. 

"You thought you'd be different, or me?" Kaz is genuinely curious, even if he is desperate for any excuse to keep Venom talking so that he doesn't risk saying the wrong thing again. 

"Both."

Kaz shifts his head, inspects Venom's eyes. It only just occurs to him how strikingly similar the damaged one is to Big Boss's, and the unlikelihood of that happening purely by chance. It's a little too convenient, he thinks, but that's a concern he'll have to save for another time. 

"I thought I'd feel different. About you," Venom clarifies. "That you'd be indifferent toward me. Nine years is a long time, people change. Feelings change. I never would have expected you to..." He trails off, gesturing as though it couldn't possibly matter. "You wouldn't have been obligated to me," he finishes feebly.

That is definitely not something Big Boss would say. 

To hell with playing along. If Venom is being this transparent, it must be safe. 

Kaz opens his mouth, a pained " _Ro_ " beginning to form in his throat --

"It was Ocelot," Venom continues, and Kaz stops short. "That made me afraid to see you again."

"Ocelot?" Kaz repeats, and there's just enough of a recoil in his voice that he makes it sound like a swear.

"I didn't know him," Venom says softly, staring numbly at the ceiling. "Or - I did, I...remembered things. But they seemed flat. Like I'd only read about these interactions and these things I did. Ocelot's voice sounded so new, so unfamiliar. I could recall things he said, just not what he sounded like when he said them. I'm supposed to have this entire history with him but he feels like a complete stranger to me, like I'd never met him before. I feared it would be the same with you. I thought I'd feel nothing when I saw you again."

Some beast coiled in the pit of Kaz's belly shifts restlessly, his heart kicking up with such force that he's sure Venom must feel it. Of course Ronan never met Ocelot. Kaz knows this, so why would he mention it? If this is some coded conversation to see how much Kaz has figured out already, he's completely lost now. Why would Venom remember anything about Ocelot at all? There's a disturbing notion tickling at the inside of Kaz's skull, an inclination he absolutely will not indulge right now, but Venom is talking again --

"Did I ever mention him? To you?" Venom's looking at him again, his expression difficult to read, but there's something vaguely pleading in it. Imploring. Like he's looking to Kaz to fill in the holes, to help him understand why his memories feel unreliable.

Then understanding settles in - Venom isn't asking as Ronan. He's asking as Big Boss. 

 _He really thinks he's Big Boss_.

Kaz's heart slides into his stomach as all the pieces fall into place, so many things about that cryptic phone call from Zero beginning to make sense. Even as Kaz confessed his intention to end him, Zero had remained calm and civil, even stressed the importance of Kaz's role in everything. If the circumstances were different, Kaz would have been expendable, especially after he'd resorted to threats. Kaz always had the suspicion that Zero never took him seriously, only saw him as the equivalent to some frivolous vacation fling while Big Boss played house in the Caribbean under some warped version of a midlife crisis. 

But Kaz's usefulness now is that he's the only thing Big Boss and Ronan had in common. An important figure they both shared. Of course he'd be essential. Venom would need an anchor of sorts, especially with as scrambled as his brains are now. Something genuinely, uniquely familiar, and not the liability of a manufactured memory. It's so goddamn perfect, it's insulting. That Kaz has been relegated to a convenient and essential tool all because he couldn't keep it in his fucking pants.

And  _fucking Ocelot_.

Kaz wonders if he facilitated whatever it is they did to Venom's head. That whole display with the ID tags earlier makes even less sense now, or perhaps was specifically meant to mock him, and all it does is stoke Kaz's contempt. The most frustrating part about it is that even if he was physically able to throttle the son of a bitch, he still wouldn't be able to because that would mean admitting what he knows. Which he realizes now is absolutely not an option.

Underlying all of that is the morbid implication that Ronan never consented to this. He wouldn't have ever had the chance. Technically Ocelot wouldn't have been lying after all, the day he told Kaz that the medic had died. 

And hadn't he already feared this? It was bad enough that they took Ronan's face away, but they took his entire personality too.  _Erased him_. And just when Kaz allowed himself to think he had his medic back, it turns out he's really not that guy anymore after all. Of course that hope would be taken away in an instant. Kaz has learned by now that good things aren't meant to happen to him.  

It's stupid to hope for anything, Kaz knows that now, but he can't help but wonder if Ronan has truly, entirely been erased. He wonders if that's even possible, or if there's some trigger that might bring him back, if there's much risk in trying to figure out what that might be. It's an interesting phenomenon, though - Venom doesn't have any of his old memories, doesn't remember who he used to be, but it's almost like a shadow of his personality is still here; all his old gestures, facial expressions, emotions. They may have been able to transplant memories, but transplanting an entire personality would seem nigh impossible. 

And ultimately, as twisted and bittersweet as it is, there's something so pure and hopeful about Ronan's old feelings for Kaz transcending even brainwashing. There's a vindictive satisfaction in it, that the forces beyond Kaz's control still can't take this away from him, not entirely, no matter how hard they try to punish him with it. In some small way, Kaz feels like he's won.

Kaz suddenly meets Venom's concerned, expectant expression and mutters some feeble apology.  _Yes, you mentioned Ocelot, but only in passing._   _Never any details_. Kaz will have to get used to answering questions as though he's speaking to Big Boss. It doesn't help that Snake was so rarely forthcoming with the personal stuff, and now Venom seems as though he'll be relying on Kaz to supply the missing pieces. It's a daunting task that Kaz isn't sure he's capable of doing without ruining it. He's already fucked it up by failing at the most fundamental level, for not falling for the ruse in the first place. 

So Kaz does the only thing he can think of, the only thing that feels right, and deflects with affection. Venom seems to respond to it well, which is already so unlike Big Boss. But Venom doesn't know that. 

What follows is a tender moment of shy, tentative touches, like they might get to know each other again through physical contact alone. Venom still touches him just as Ronan did. Kaz's heart jumps with a small jolt of panic when he realizes he's been muttering something under his breath, but it's only  _I missed you, I missed you, it's so good to have you back_. Which is safe enough, he supposes. 

Still, it doesn't sit well with him that he'll have to lie to Venom indefinitely, that he's forced into being complicit with this sick theft of autonomy.

He can only hope that Venom will forgive him if the truth ever comes out.

**Author's Note:**

> [∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿](http://saintambrose.tumblr.com/)


End file.
